


Vex & Solace

by Vali_West



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Anders is tipsy and sick, Fever, M/M, Sickfic, Snipit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 18:55:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5881864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vali_West/pseuds/Vali_West
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short slice of sickfic.</p><p>99% fluff.</p><p>1% swearing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vex & Solace

**Author's Note:**

> I'm running a temperature of 102F. I'll apologize for this later.

Mitchell could smell sickness the moment his key turned and the front door cracked open. It had a strong scent, sweet and tangy, with hints of distress and agony.

It was the scent of weakness.

But Mitchell pushed that thought away.

He nudged the glass door open carefully with his foot, and slipped inside, listening intently for any muted signs that Anders may give away. A cough, perhaps, or the sound of a pill rattle.

He heard nothing of the sort.

Mitchell chuckled and shook his head to himself. It was so like Anders to not take care of himself. It was so predictable it was almost laughable.

“Anders, love,” He called out, “I'm here!”

As Mitchell kicked off his sneakers, he heard no sound of response.

  
Perhaps he was asleep. That would be a good sign.

He padded through the house quietly, mismatched socks against pale carpet. He trailed one long finger against the walls, brushing his fingertip fondly across familiar furniture.

The scent grew stronger as he veered towards Anders' study. In fact, it was so strong Mitchell had to pause and swallow with great difficulty. The smell of unsuspecting prey was still far too delicious for Mitchell's instincts.

He cracked his knuckles and neck to release some internal pressure and trailed into the room.

Mitchell wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't what he found.

Anders was lounging across his chair, knees draped over one arm. A bloody Mary was in one hand, and the other was busy supporting his head. It took a moment for his eyes to find and focus on Mitchell. When they did, a lazy smirk crossed his pale lips.

“Hey, pretty pretty.” He crooned, his feet kicking a bit like a pup waving its tail. “What _do_ I owe the pleasure?”

“You invited me over.” Mitchell pointed out simply. He walked over to his lover, gently taking the drink from his hand and placing it on his desk.

“Hey, I need that.” Anders complained.

“You're not hungover, love, you're ill.”

“'m not.” Anders reached for the drink, which Mitchell promptly slid back a couple inches with his fingers. Anders groaned and rubbed his forehead. “ _Babe_.”

“Babe,” Mitchell return with a smile. “Will you let me take your temperature?”

“Never on my life.”

“Too bad.”

Mitchell placed his hand over his forehead, despite Anders' shoving and whining. The heat came to Mitchell's palm in a bit of a shock. He was expecting warm, not... _hot_.

“Mm,” He hummed, withdrawing his hand before Anders could start to bite. “Looks like you've got yourself quite the fever there, darlin'.”

“Thanks, you're pretty hot yourself,” Anders mumbled, trying to awkwardly turn over in his desk chair. Mitchell watched blankly. It didn't work, and Anders' released a frustrated huff. “Jesus, fuck.”

“Let's get you to bed, yeah?” Mitchell offered his arms. “I'll carry you.”

“Like fuck y'will. Imma walk like a man.”

“You're hardly one right now.”

“Rude.”

Anders rose to his feet quite gracelessly, stumbling and swearing. He gripped onto the edge of the table beneath him and went pale in the face.

“Babe,” He said faintly. “I don't feel so good.”

“That's what I've been trying to tell you.” Mitchell explained calmly. “Now, would you like help?”

“Nuh uh.”

Anders just about fell on his first step. Mitchell simply extended his arms, catching him easily. He held Anders' head to the crook of his neck as he rearranged him to lift him in a bridal-styled manner, much to Anders' dismay.

“Oh, hell no.” Anders shrieked. “Oh, _hell_ no! Put me down-! W-whoa...” He suddenly gasped and clutched his head.

“Careful,” Mitchell warned him. “Drunk and feverish does not seem to be a good suit on you.”

“Every suit looks good on m-me.” Anders could barely finish the sentence. “M-my _head_...”

“Shh, shh...” Mitchell soothed him, stroking his hair. “Hush, love. You're okay.”

Anders was quiet for the trip to his room. He clung to Mitchell's taller form like a child. Much to Mitchell's pleasure, he remained still while he placed him onto his bed, that is, until Mitchell pulled away. Then, he rolled over and buried his head beneath his pillow.

Mitchell sat beside him, a soft smile on his face as he settled his hand on Anders' spine. He could feel him shivering, so Mitchell straightened a bit to grab a nearby blanket. He tucked it around Anders, and when he finished, he began to run his fingers up and down his back.

“Hey,” Anders' voice was muffled. “That feels good.”

“I know.” Mitchell returned. “That's why I'm doing it.”

Anders seemed to hesitate – Mitchell could nearly taste the sudden apprehension – and he turned over onto his side. His gaze tugged up to meet Mitchell's. He licked his lips nervously, and then he croaked out, “Why do you do stuff like this?”

“Like what?” Mitchell's brow furrowed. “Like taking you to bed?”

“Like-” Anders struggled to sit up a bit. “Like- you're always so... nice. To me. Which is... is...” Anders cleared his throat and pulled his eyes away. “It's...”

“It's what, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck, I'll just say it. It's weird, okay?” Anders blurted out. “A-and it's like, you've got better things to do than this. You've got your mates. You've got your life.”

“Whoa, whoa.” Mitchell grinned, cupping Anders' jaw with cool palms. “Baby, look at me. Are we really going here right now? When you're this out of it?”

“Yes.” Anders said stubbornly. “We're having this talk now.”

“Alright. Alright, love.” Mitchell took a breath. “I know where you're coming from. I do. You're a bit distant with your family, I get that. I do.”

“The fam.” Anders crooned.

“What I'm trying to say, and I'll use small words- ow, don't smack me- is that you mean more to me than all of that. Okay? Look, I know we've never had this talk before. We've never actually sat down and had... this talk.” Mitchell sighed. “And I've been meaning to.”

“Ty is gay.” Anders blurted out suddenly, excited. “Did'ja know?”

Mitchell deadpanned. “... I'll be downstairs.”

“Nooo, don't go. I'm sorry. He's not gay. Probably.” Anders wound his arms around Mitchell. “Baby, baby. Come here. Come love me.”

“I do love you.” Mitchell agreed wearily. “Sometimes.”

“Better than nothing.” Anders said gleefully. “Come down here.”

“Lay with you?”

“Mm-hm.”

Mitchell closed his eyes momentarily. Dare he?

“Alright. Just for a minute or two. Until you fall asleep.”

“In that case, I'll never sleep.”

“That's actually pretty sweet of you to say that.” Mitchell carefully slid into the bed, wincing as his jeans brushed against the soft fabric beneath him. Always felt weird.

“I'm always sweet. To you.” Anders revised.

“I have to agree.”

Mitchell laid one arm on Anders' body while the other hand found his hair and began to massage his scalp. Anders just about moaned and pressed his face against his chest.

At one point, Mitchell began to ease himself out of bed, but Anders' suddenly gave a small shudder. “F-fuck.”  
  
“What is it, baby?”

Anders sucked in a breath. “It's- this room is fucking spinning-”

“Oh.” Mitchell chuckled quietly and squeezed his shoulders in a comforting manner. “I've got you, lovely.”

“I know you do.” Anders murmured.

“Just sleep, darling.” Mitchell said softly. “That's it.”

He leaned down and kissed his hot brow fondly.

“I'll be right here when you wake up.”

 


End file.
